The First Time
by Rae D. Magdon
Summary: It is not the first time she has caught herself staring at Asami's face... (Korrasami, takes place on the blimp ride in the Season 3 Finale)


**AN**: Hello! My name is Rae, and this is my first dip into the Avatar/Legend of Korra fandom (although I've written very extensively in other fandoms, as you can see from my profile). :D I hope to write a lot more Korrasami in the near future, but I wanna warn you before you start that there are graphic depictions of sex between women in almost everything I write. Sooo... be careful. This particular story is vanilla, but it's fairly explicit, and verrrry lesbian. I'm shit with titles, so you'll have to forgive me for that. I'm on tumblr, twitter, and facebook at raedmagdon as well, if you want to keep an eye out for more Korrasami from me in the future!

**. . .**

**The First Time**

**. . .**

It is not the first time she has caught herself staring at Asami's face.

The pale curve reflected in the windowglass of the blimp is familiar to her. Even ghostly and half-formed, it draws her gaze away from the mountains and wisps of cloud passing by below. The tilt of Asami's head sends cascades of black hair spilling over her shoulders and down her back, forming a fluid line she cannot help but follow with her eyes. And even though Asami is not smiling, the shape of her lips still forms a perfect bow…

"I say we make our approach from the west and drop down from the airship on cables, ambush these Red Lotus lotus lowlifes before they know what hit them…"

She started staring shortly after their return to Republic City. They had been driving the satomobile, and when she turned in her seat to see the wind playing through Asami's hair, her breath stopped. She had always known that Asami was beautiful, but it had been irrelevant before. Beauty seemed such a trivial thing when the world was in peril…

"It'll never work. That combustion lady will pick us off one by one…"

She had almost managed to convince herself it meant nothing. Asami was the first female friend she had ever made. But then they had gone to Ba Sing Se, and the ground beneath her feet had lost its firmness when Asami smiled at her over a pile of disarmed bandits. She had nearly lost her balance, and it took several moments for her to refocus her attention on the last of the rebels as they escaped...

"And give them the high ground? No! If that lavabender spots us, he'll melt the side of the mountain and us along with it…"

She had confirmed that the strange pull she felt was beyond her control during their stakeout at the Misty Palms Inn. Her attention had wandered away from the building across the street and toward Asami again and again. The intensity in Asami's dark eyes as she stared down at the Pai Sho board had caused her to sweat through the back of her shirt...

"Wait! I've got it. I'll disguise myself as a lost hiker, and once I'm in the temple, I'll distract the Red Lotus with my birdcalls!"

And then they had been alone in the desert, trapped aboard the rumbling airship. The triumphant, almost teasing look on Asami's face as she strolled through the door with the keys to her chains twirling around one finger, stepping over the fallen guard on her way. . . it had sent heat rushing from her chest to the very tips of her fingers with each footstep. . .

No. It is not the first time she has caught herself staring at Asami's face, but it is the first time that looking hasn't been enough to distract her. Sharp words intrude, cutting through the haze of her thoughts.

"Birdcalls? Really?" Mako drawls.

Bolin glares back at him. "Well, I haven't noticed you offering any suggestions!"

She closes her eyes, drawing in one last, deep breath before she turns around. Asami's face burns at the front of her mind, smiling instead of frowning, clear instead of drawn with worry. But. . . surely the Airbenders have faces of their own. People they remember when they close their eyes. People they are terrified to lose. "It doesn't matter. None of these ideas will work. The second Zaheer realizes we're up to something, he'll wipe out the Airbenders."

As one, they all turn to look at her. She deliberately avoids Asami's gaze and lets out a quiet sigh of relief when she is not the first one to speak. "And Opal is one of those Airbenders," Suyin says. "Believe me, I understand what's at stake."

What's at stake… Asami...

She can't stand it anymore. She finds the eyes she has been trying to forget, and the sad, lost look in them almost makes her wonder if Asami already knows what she is going to say next. "Then I think you'll agree. The only plan that will work is for me to give myself up."

"What?"

"Korra, no!"

"We'll figure out another way..."

The objections come one after the other, overlapping and fading into a dull roar. She shakes her head. "I've talked it over with Lord Zuko and I've given it a lot of thought. I have to do this."

"You can't expect us to just sit by and let Zaheer take you."

Asami's voice nearly makes her resolve crumble. She has to dig her nails into her palms to keep it from echoing over and over again her in head. But she swallows, loosening the lump in her throat just enough to force out the rest. "The world has been out of balance for far too long. It needs the Air Nation back again. I can't let Zaheer destroy it and…" Her voice breaks, cracking as she lingers too long on Asami's face. "And everyone we love…" There is a flash of understanding, a moment where she can hear nothing but the throb of an unsteady heartbeat, unsure whether it's hers or not. "Help me save the Airbenders, and then you can worry about saving me."

"We're with you, Korra," her father says. The deep, warm strength in his voice makes her hands loosen at her sides.

Suyin steps around the side of the table to stand closer to her. "Yes, whatever you need. We're here."

She breathes a little easier. Part of her wants to believe that her friends will save her. That she won't have to say goodbye. That she will survive long enough to figure out… whatever this mess is. But there are no guarantees. She forces herself to study the faces of the people standing before her, trying to memorize each of them. She wants to take all of them with her, just in case. Her father, Lin and Suyin, Bolin and Mako… Asami…

Asami...

She finds the strength she needs to nod her head and turn toward the door. "I'll go radio Zaheer."

No one tries to stop her.

And then she is alone in the hallway, staring down at the gratework beneath her feet and trying to forget about the last several minutes. She wants to be back in Republic City, fresh from her victory over Vaatu. She wants to drive down the street in a satomobile, moments away from turning to see Asami's smile. She wants to laugh until her sides hurt instead of blinking back tears.

But as she tries to steady her breathing, footsteps echo behind her. Warmth surrounds her hand. She freezes, too afraid to look down. She already knows what she will find - soft, smooth fingers laced with hers, twining together. They have not touched often. Physical contact between them is rare enough that the feel of skin on skin, even just palms touching, is enough to send a spike through her chest. The ball of fear there shifts into something else, and its tendrils snake out to slither beneath her skin.

For a moment, she is disgusted with herself. She might be about to die. Desire is the last thing she should feel. But the edge of regret that creeps up on her as she catches sight of their linked fingers is too much. She lifts her chin, breath skating noisily past her teeth as she realizes that Asami's lips are only a few inches away from hers. "I… don't know what to say," she whispers, afraid that if she speaks any louder, the hand around hers will fall away.

But she doesn't need to say anything. Asami's mouth catches hers instead. The kiss is warm, soft, and surprisingly yielding, and it makes her heart stutter out of rhythm. Fire flickers down the middle of her back, gathering at the base of her spine and pooling there. Her lungs burn, but she has forgotten how to breathe. She has been kissed before, but never like this, with the sharp taste of loss mixed in with need.

It takes her several moments to realize that they are moving. Asami is leading her somewhere, dragging her backwards through the hallway. When their lips break apart, it's only for a split second. Just long enough for her to murmur, "Where...?" There are so many other questions she had thought she would need to ask, back when this moment had only existed in her imagination, but none of them matter now.

Asami's hand squeezes painfully tight around hers, but she doesn't mind. The warmth of her breath is intoxicating. "There's a small engine room. I know blimps."

Never has she been more grateful for Asami's mechanical expertise.

She doesn't hesitate. If this is her only chance to say goodbye, she will not waste it. With Mako, she had felt intense grief, even fear at the prospect of losing him, but one look, one touch from Asami has the power to devastate her completely. "Okay."

They don't touch during the short walk to the engine room, but only because they are still in the open hall. As soon as they duck through the door, Asami's lips are pressed back on hers, pinning her to the wall. And somewhere in the kiss, she loses her guilt. Her fear. Her confusion. _This_ makes sense. This is what she should have been clinging to all along. For just a couple of seconds, this is the only thing that matters. Asami is the only thing that matters.

It's a relief to have her world shrink down to one person and her focus narrow so tightly. With Asami kissing her, all she has to do is kiss back.

But soon, the deep kisses break apart and scatter. Before she realizes what she's doing, her mouth is gliding down along Asami's neck, covering her shoulder, grazing flesh with the edges of her teeth. Her skin tastes salty and sweet at the same time. And then Asami has her forearms in a bruising grip, keeping her pinned tight to the wall, lifting one knee and forcing it up between her legs.

The pressure makes her groan into Asami's neck. It's unexpected, but desperately needed, and she slumps further back against the wall, praying she won't slide down into a puddle on the floor. She pulls back, torn between pleading for more and begging to slow down, but the faint glimmer of sweat on Asami's brow and the desire burning in her dark eyes steals her words again. All she can do is grip one of the pipes and hang on for dear life as Asami's fingers tug at her shirt.

They don't have time. Both of them know it. But for just a moment, as the fabric flutters loose and falls to the floor, she and Asami freeze and stare at each other. What they are doing cannot be erased or taken back.

"Korra?" The sound of Asami's voice is warped in her ears, like it's being filtered through water. "Korra, are you sure?"

No, she isn't sure. She isn't sure whether she will survive her inevitable confrontation with Zaheer. She isn't even sure whether the world will survive. She isn't sure what kind of future she and Asami could possibly have together, or what to do about Mako, and she's even starting to have doubts about her own name. But at least there is one thing she's sure of. She pulls Asami back against her, kissing her fiercely as she begins fumbling with the buckles of her jacket.

It takes several awkward minutes for them to undress - minutes they don't have. By the time they're finished, she is exhausted and shaking, and Asami. . . Asami is beautiful. So beautiful, even without the tailored clothes and all the extras. The curve of her hips looks like it was made for the sweep of her palms, and although her hair is long enough to cover the top half of her chest, she can catch a glimpse of the hardened points of her nipples.

"Asami, you're. . ." There is no word for what she wants to say. No worthy adjective.

But once again, she does not have to say anything, because Asami's lips are on hers, and Asami's hands are gliding up the surface of her stomach to stroke her arms. They trace a smooth line over each of her shoulders before meeting at the center of her chest, inches away from her breasts. "No," Asami whispers into her mouth. "_You're_ beautiful. I've always thought so. Even when. . ." She whimpers as teeth catch her lower lip. "Even when we first met, and I. . ."

Asami's hands begin to shake as they move in to cup her breasts, and she suddenly realizes that she is not the only one who is nervous. Maybe Asami is just as confused as she is. Just as inexperienced. Just as afraid of dying, and of falling in love. Part of her hopes so. At least then she won't be alone.

She can't stand it anymore. She flips their positions, peeling her back away from the warm metal of the engine room wall and catching Asami's wrists on the way. This time, she is the one earning whimpers and sighs as her hands drink in every inch of bare flesh they can cover. She learns the shape of Asami's arms, the softness of her stomach, the fullness of her hips, and the slickness that is already beginning to trail down her inner thighs. . .

It takes her a moment to realize what she is feeling - what she has only felt while touching herself before. Warm, heated flesh covered in a shimmering layer of silk. She is so overwhelmed that she has to rest her forehead against the wall. She is dizzy, drunk with the newness and intensity of the experience. And then Asami is pushing against her, rocking, pressing until her fingers skate over the tight, swollen bud she had been too distracted to look for. Her brain clicks back on. She has at least a little knowledge to draw on here.

She starts circling, slowly at first, flicking so lightly that Asami begins murmuring her name in what sounds like protest. The louder and shakier Asami's voice gets, the harder she presses until she feels a hitch against her, a signal that she's found the right speed and stroke. Wetness runs into her hand, streaking over her palm and coating her fingers whenever she dips low enough to find it. She waits - just a beat, just to make sure - then begins pressing inside, closing her eyes and shuddering as she feels warm, clinging muscle wrap around her fingers.

Each second is a new discovery. She thrusts at first, then falls into a curling motion when Asami's lips find the edge of her jaw. She isn't conscious of the hand sliding down her side, or the bruising grip on her hip as she tries to change the angle of her wrist. Somehow, she manages to find a way to hook her fingers and keep circling with her thumb at the same time. It's difficult while their bodies are pressed so tight together, and her forearm burns with the effort, but the sounds pouring into her ear are worth it.

"Korra…"

And then Asami collapses against her, trembling and spilling over and clutching desperately at her hip. The muscles around her fingers begin to flutter, and the swollen point beneath the pad of her thumb throbs with each contraction. Heat runs over her knuckles, and she pushes as deep as she can, unwilling to let the moment go. She wants to stay like this forever, with Asami coming in her hand while the rest of the world is frozen.

But it can't last forever. The deep pulses become aftershocks, and Asami's sharp cry fades to a murmur. The look in her eyes is so raw that it takes her several seconds to remember that she has not moved her hand. She begins to pull it back, but Asami shakes her head and closes her thighs. "No. Not yet." So she waits, listening to their synced breathing and trailing a few soft kisses along the smooth curve of Asami's cheek. Hair catches at her lips, but she doesn't care.

The rest happens so quickly that she can barely process it. Suddenly, she's back against the wall, struggling to breathe as Asami's lips tug at one of her nipples. The warmth is wonderful, but too much at the same time, and she drums her fingers on the metal behind her, unsure what to with her hands. She reaches out to steady herself on Asami's shoulders, groping through the air in confusion when she realizes they aren't there. Asami's mouth has already moved down, down along the line of muscle bisecting her stomach, down past her navel and. . .

She makes the mistake of looking. Asami is on her knees, cheeks flushed, lips swollen with kisses, staring up at her with such a naked expression that she can't tear her eyes away. And even though the thought is a little frightening, she parts her thighs to give her all the access she needs. The first touch of Asami's fingertips makes her breath hitch. Her heartbeat pounds faster as those fingers begin tracing a soft line, dipping between her outer lips to find every secret place. But then the teasing fingers pulls away, and all she can feel is the sweet, searing heat of Asami's tongue in their place.

It is not what she expected. She isn't prepared for this fire, this unstoppable rush of need. A flood is roaring through her body, carrying her away on its current, and she has nothing left to cling to. She can only let Asami coax her into sliding a calf over her shoulder and try not to scream. A gentle thumb pulls back the hood of her clit, and warm lips seal around the stiff point a moment later. The sweet tugging motion that follows is almost too much. Her head swims. Every strand of muscle in her body pulls taut. She digs her teeth into her lower lip, unsure whether to beg Asami to release the pressure pounding within her, or to draw her torment out for as long as possible.

But she has no control anymore. Her body - Asami's body - has taken over. A deep, burning stretch, lower than she expects, makes her hiss and buck against Asami's chin, but she welcomes the fingers sliding inside of her, and her heel digs hard into Asami's back at the new fullness. Asami's tongue begins painting patterns over her, swirls and quick little flicks, and bright spots of color float in front of her eyes.

"Please, I. . ."

She doesn't want to die. She doesn't want this to end. She doesn't want to let Asami go. After this, she can't even consider it.

". . .I love you. . ."

Tears streak down her face, but she can't even find the strength to wipe them away as her release consumes her. It is a heavy, aching thing that starts deep inside her and claws its way out with each thick pulse. The pressure finally bursts, and a scream tears through the soft tissue of her throat. She quivers, pumping her hips in a frantic attempt to seek more of the warmth folding around her. Each stroke of Asami's tongue, each press of her fingers calls out another powerful wave of shudders.

And then… and then it's over. It's over, and Asami is staring up at her, smiling even though her eyes are overflowing with sadness at the same time. "I'm glad you said that," she says, and she feels herself twitch with desire one last time as she notices the wetness coating her shimmering lips. "I wasn't sure I could."

Somewhere between the ragged edges of fear and despair, she is relieved. At least Asami got to hear her say I love you once before… before whatever will come next. She isn't sure she can say it again - once is a confession, twice is a promise - but she feels unburdened in a way she cannot describe. For a few stolen minutes, her world is perfectly in balance, probably for the first time.

"So…?"

Asami climbs back to her feet, steam pouring from her skin as her sweat evaporates in the heat of the engine room. The look on her face is longing and fearful, and she has to avert her eyes. She knows if she keeps looking, she will want to keep touching. Her heart starts to sink again as her foot comes back down onto the floor. She suddenly remembers her nakedness.

"Now, you go end this."

She nods. They are already on borrowed time.

Putting her clothes back on is even more awkward than taking them off. It is the last thing she want to do, but her eyes narrow in determination as she pulls her shirt back over her head. Everything feels different now. She feels different. But once she's dressed and walking back toward the door, skin still burning from the heat of the room and the memory of Asami's touch, she can't help but turn back. "Asami…?"

"Go."

She exhales and leaves without a second look.

**The End**


End file.
